The first time I expressed myself, I think I was 3. But I never really knew what expression meant, or how it feels to have your fingers moving faster than your mind, how it feels to let your soul take flight into outerspace, into the unknown to find something beyond the realm of human capabilities. I never really knew what it meant to write, until my heart told me to do so once upon a time. And that time I carved this piece. Yes, it is imperfect but imperfect things have a tendancy of finding their way to your heart because they have weaknesses, just like you do. This piece found its way to my heart, as it did to this blog and the rest, as they say, is history...